


Catmint

by welovelogansanders



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (Without Consent), Implied/Referenced Animal Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, It/Its Pronouns for Logan, Mentions of Delusion, Mentions of Pig Intestines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:34:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23953132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welovelogansanders/pseuds/welovelogansanders
Summary: According to town legend, there in the forest lives a monster. Virgil is sent to retrieve some catmint for Patton. What happens afterwards, the townspeople aren’t told.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Catmint

According to town legend, there in the forest lives a monster. At least, that was what the people had called it. It had claws and fangs, horns like the devil and sharper sight than a falcon, and if you went too deep into the woods, it would find you. Then you disappear. Some say that’s because it eats you whole, bones and all, while others claim it’s because he takes your soul.

Virgil always thought town legend was stupid, but he got scared sometimes, too. Not about the monster, but what people... _do,_ to keep it away. 

Farmers gutting the largest piglet in the drift and dropping the remains outside of the town walls, or parents locking away their children until the worst week of winter was over, or any other insane delirium the town performed. Virgil hated the damp rooms he used to be kept in, and especially hated the permanent dark it left under his eyes. He tried not to think about either, but the mirror says otherwise. 

Virgil’s horse, Nala, whinnied. He gently hushed her, stroking her neck. 

“It’s alright, girl,” he murmured, readjusting the straps of his satchel. “No old, fake monster is going to get us.” At least, he hopes. While town legend was stupid, it could sometimes be right. As if hearing the thoughts, Nala only whinnied louder. 

“Are you _sure_ about this, kiddo?” Virgil turned his head, raising a hand. “It’s only catmint. You can wait until the snow clears—“

“Patton, it’s fine,” Virgil reassured. He’d been convincing himself to do it all week, and if he didn’t do it now, he’d only berate himself. “It’s fine. The snow’s been letting up since this morning, and I promised you I’d get us catmint.”

Patton and Nala whined simultaneously. Virgil could’ve laughed. 

“If you’re sure—“

“I _am._ ”

“Alright,” Patton huffed. “I just don’t want you getting hurt. You come right back after getting the catmint, alright?” Virgil nodded, and they both smiled. “I’ll have the stollen done when you get home.”

“That’s if you don’t eat the ingredients while making it,” he teased, chuckling when Patton pouted.

“That was one time!”

“Yeah, I know.” Virgil looped his foot into the stirrups and launched into the saddle. Nala shifted, but stopped when Virgil murmured, “Don’t you dare buck me off again.” Sighing, he took the small plant knife Patton handed up to him. “Well, wish me luck.” 

Patton smiled, giving a short wave. “Good luck!”

  
  


Virgil waved back, took the reins, and Nala sprung into action. The town walls opened for him, and closed for others. The snowflakes stung Virgil’s cheeks, and he pulled his scarf closer. The trees became thicker and the world grew quiet, and Nala slowed to a trot. Catmint wasn’t _too_ deep into the forest, and it didn’t take him more than thirty minutes to spot the small trails of purple. 

“Found ya,” Virgil grunted, hopping off of Nala. Walking alongside her, he shoved his gloves into his pockets, took his satchel off the side of the saddle, and took out the plant knife. He kneeled to a good-sized collection of catmint, and began cutting. He placed them into his satchel with care, and the process continued longer than Virgil had expected. Next time he looked up, the sky was darker and the snow had gotten thicker.

Nala whinnied. Virgil frowned. 

“It’s fine,” he mumbled. It was to Nala, but it helped him a little, too. “It’s going to be fine, it’s just more snow.” Nala shifted, as they did not help her.

Adjusting his satchel to the saddle, Virgil hopped from the stirrups once more. Taking the reins, Nala trotted back from where they came.

Or at least, what Virgil had assumed was the way. The snow kept getting thicker, and the trees were getting taller, and after the thousandth time of reassuring himself, Virgil couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that they were lost.

Nala whined this time, and Virgil sighed, placing his forehead onto her nape. “It’s fine,” he mumbled again, sounding anything but fine. “It’s just more snow.”

A branch snapped, and that was it for Nala. Virgil was bucked off, lucky to hit a snowbank somehow. Despite Nala’s desperate neighing, she didn’t run away, but rather in a wide circle before becoming frozen where she stood. Virgil rushed to get up, and that’s when he realized why Nala had been petrified.

A figure crouched over him, extending a clawed hand towards his eyes. “Fascinating...,” it murmured. 

Virgil’s heart pounded in his chest. He instinctively slapped the hand away, and it hissed. He curled into a ball, burying his head into the snow. “ _Don’t eat me!_ ” he screamed, “Or— or take my soul! Or whatever you do!”

“Eat you?” it echoed. “Why on Earth would I eat you?”

Virgil took a moment to process the words. Peeking from where he so helpfully hid, he blinked. It wore a broken pair of glasses.

“And taking someone’s soul is impossible,” it went on. “In fact, humans have been unable to prove whether or not souls even exist— I highly doubt they do, though. It would be just as illogical as the afterlife. Just another way to lift egotistical beliefs, such as one being ‘pure of heart’ or ‘full of sin’, and in fact—“ it stopped mid-sentence.

“You’re staring.”

Virgil stumbled for words, ending with a “Huh?”

“You’re staring,” it repeated, “could you please cease?”

“Oh—“ Virgil’s face reddened, and it tilted it’s head. “Sorry.” He mumbled more under his breath, but not even he could hear it.

“Could you repeat that, please?” Virgil blinked again. Why was it so polite?

“You, uhm— you scared m’horse,” he answered, and now it was its turn to blink. It backed away, and Virgil sat up, brushing the snow off of himself.

“I’m terribly sorry,” it said, adjusting its glasses. It gave a wave to Nala, and she huffed, hardly moving. “I hadn’t meant to.”

“It’s fine. Uh,” Virgil stumbled, both verbally and physically, “are you... it?” The words felt dry, but he stopped before he could make it worse. It frowned.

“You’ll have to elaborate, please. And do not call me an it; I am a he.”

Virgil winced. “M’sorry.” He pulled at his gloves, finally getting a full look at the mon— creat— other. He had deer horns and filed claws. He had two different colored eyes; one blue, the other amber. When he shuffled, the attention was brought to his eagle-like legs and feet. He wore some semblance of a sleeveless top. How did he not get cold? He adjusted his glasses again, and Virgil figured he should speak.

“The name’s Virgil,” he quickly introduced. “And you’re...?”

“Logan will do.” Logan held out a hand, and Virgil took it loosely. Logan held a firm shake, and he couldn’t help it.

“Do you talk to other towns?” he asked. “Because, like— you’re more polite than my neighbors.” Logan shook his head. 

“I observe,” he explained. “I spend most of my days observing. I tend to keep away from yours. The other towns don’t have the walls and the stench of pig intestines.”

“I guess it really does work, then,” Virgil mumbled, immediately wishing he didn’t, because Logan’s face went slack and paled.

“They do that because of me?”

“The town’s delusional,” Virgil rushed to explain, “the town legend is hardly ever true. They— most of them are really stupid, and— and it’s not your fault.”

A deep frown settled on Logan’s face. They sat in silence. Virgil shifted, and the frown lifted a little.

“What did you come here for?” Logan asked. “You seemed lost when I spotted you. Perhaps I can help?”

“Oh, I uh—“ Virgil gestured to the satchel. “I just came for some catmint. My friend needed it, but he doesn’t know how to ride a horse, so...” He brought his arms up, dropping them to the sides with a thwack. “I’m here instead.”

Logan nodded, snow shaking off of his horns. “You should get going, then. You wouldn’t want to worry your friend.”

“Yeah, I should...” And yet, Virgil stayed put. They stared at each other for a long while, Virgil and Logan. 

It was hard to sleep that night.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not... exactly sure where this came from, but I like it! Let me know if I forgot to tag anything, and feedback is always appreciated!
> 
> And if you wanna drop by my tumblr with some asks, it’s @welovelogansanders! See you all next time!


End file.
